• A warrior. That is what I was.
    Not a nurse, not a cleric, no, but a warrior.
    Some would prefer to say
    "soldier".
    But that term deters me from my point.
    Is a woman not also entitles to fight for her clan?
    Is that same woman not allowed to to wear the sacred raiments of battle?
    The furs of slain beasts that so symbolize our courage?
    The leathers of strong hands working to push back encroaching forces, or possibly expand?
    No.
    A woman wasn't allowed to do that.
    Merely because of her sex.

    Conquest describes many things.
    A religous movement, bent on gaining new land and converting
    those already faithful to a set of Gods.
    Or mayhaps just describing the simple world of war.
    I was different.

    I was called many things.
    One only of which, stained my heart with it's cold cruelty.
    I had been called a woman.
    A wench, a barmaid, a common housewife.
    I knew what I was and wasn't.
    I was a woman.
    I wasn't, however, one who would sit by while men were turned into heroes with their, slobbering bloodlust, or the fact that we bore new life, while they took life.

    I suppose that one would call me...
    a Valkyrie.
    For lack of a better term, that was what I was called.
    The Valkyrie.
    As I look back, I realized something.
    I hadn't carved a path for other women of my tribe.
    I had been turned into a brute with a need to brawl.
    Now, I am what's called a leader among my people.

    I hadn't carved a path.

    ...I'd simply alienated myself.